


Unconventional Love (On hold)

by orphan_account



Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Crime, Drug Use, Eating Disorders, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Gang Violence, Gangs, Gay Sex, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Mental Health Issues, References to Depression, Switch Jeon Jungkook, Switch Kim Taehyung | V, Violence, taekook
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-03-24 03:04:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13802046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: In a world where true happiness is only granted from meeting your soulmate, Jeon Jungkook lives a colourless life. He spends his days working a job that he hates, and lives in a city where he knows nobody other than the colleagues that hate him.But then everything suddenly changed.Thrust into a world of gangs and crime, he begins to realise that there is more to life than meeting and falling in love with a soulmate. There is more to life than working an office job for your entire life. There is more to life than trying to impress everybody you meet.





	1. Chapter 1

Dragging himself out of bed, Jungkook sighed as his entire body cried out in pain. Every bone in his body wanted him to go back to sleep, but his brain told him something else: 'stop being a lazy cunt and earn money to keep a roof over your head!'

His one-roomed apartment made it easy for the 19-year-old to get ready, knowing he could brew his coffee at the same time as getting dressed. His kitchen consisted of three surfaces for his appliances and an ancient table which was used to carry his work documents. His living room consisted of a sofa, a small TV, which sat on a large cardboard box, a wobbly chair and a small cabinet which contained his hundreds of sketchpads. His bedroom was a single bed and a lamp, tucked away in the corner at an angle so he could watch TV from the bed.

The only thing that was separated from his living space was his minuscule bathroom, consisting of a toilet, a bathtub and a rusty shower-head.

As much as it was a run-down shit-hole, he had no intentions of ever moving out; it was probably one of the cheapest places in Seoul, at a mere 60,200 won a week. He had taught himself to adapt, despite having to deal with mental health problems since a young age.

But this was a normal part of his life.

Jeon Jungkook hated Mondays. 

He hated how the word tasted on his tongue, worse than his daily dose of antidepressants. He hated how it forced him to leave his favourite place. He hated how it meant dealing with his awful colleagues.

No amount of coffee could make Monday better.

The purple-haired boy sighed when he looked out the window; it was snowing which meant he would have to ditch his bike and walk to work. He had had to sell his car when he arrived to Seoul after having his license revoked: he had gotten caught driving whilst in the middle of a nervous breakdown.

Popping some pills before continuing to get ready, he sighed as the voices in his head faded away.

The only clothes he had other than pyjamas were suits, which he stored on his curtain rail. He never left the house unless he was going to work, so he didn't see the point in purchasing casual clothes. An outcast by day and a suicidal maniac by night, it was safe to say that his social life wasn't the best it could have been.

The only reason he continued to live, was that he was hoping to meet his soulmate; he couldn't bring himself to allow whomever his soulmate was to live a life alone.

That was, if he even had a soulmate.

Jungkook winced as he rubbed his temple firmly using his thumbs, trying his best to shake off the thoughts that were running through his head again for the 256th consecutive morning. The day being a success depended on self-motivation- which was still a work in progress.

He watched his hands as he began to brew coffee, filling his travel mug with the tiny grains of instant coffee. The boiling kettle had his full attention; he fixated on the bubbling water, a safe haven for his mind so it wouldn't wander. That was what his therapist said, anyway.

The whistling kettle told him that the water was ready, and he poured it into his travel mug slowly as he mixed it with his spoon. He added a dash of milk and some sweetener before sealing the container, putting into the satchel along with some of his documents that needed to be uploaded onto the company's system.

"Why do I even bother?"

The boy's mind was in a dark place as usual, but somehow he was able to fight through it and grabbed his stuff. 

He left the shitty apartment quickly, checking his watch casually as he realised he was probably going to be late to work. Locking the door, despite the fact that nobody would _want_ to break in, he made his way to the stairwell

The rest of the apartments in the building contained druggies and homeless people, meaning that it was always empty during the day. The silence wasn't always good, but on a Monday it was the best part.

His hate for Mondays was what he focused his thoughts on during his journey to his office; Mondays were the only thing worse than his job and it made it a lot easier to bear.

Looking in his reflection in the shop window as he walked past, he noticed how messy his hair was. While he usually tried to style it, Mondays were the exception.

That's how bad it was.

Today, Jungkook was scared of one person in particular. Whilst he hated everybody in the office equally, he knew that one person would have something bad to say to him. 

That person was Lee Jiwoo.

She was the biggest bitch on the planet in his eyes, as she scolded him for every single thing he did. 

She knew that he had problems. She knew that the smallest changes to his daily routine could result in him having a breakdown. She knew that he didn't respond well to criticism. Yet, she had had the nerve to completely railroad the boy for making a small error in some of his paperwork, just because it reflected badly on her.

And she had the nerve to call him out for taking his anxiety pills halfway through her lecture.

So Jungkook had responded negatively and given her fifteen stitches across her left cheek.

That was the only thing he had no control over; his violent impulses were rarely avoidable. His mood swings caused him to lash out randomly and was the main cause of him losing three jobs in the five months prior to applying for his current role.

He knew that he needed more support. He knew that he should've gotten help back in Busan before coming to Seoul, and then maybe he could have avoided all of this hardship.

But it was either getting help at home or escaping his family.

Releasing a nervous gulp from the back of his throat, he felt his eyes begin to water as he looked up the huge building that he worked in five days a week. He knew that there was going to be a staff meeting and he knew that it was going to be aimed at him.

Sadly, there was nothing he could do; he had fucked up again.

 

~~~

 

"G'morning Jungkook," he was greeted by the friendly, blonde receptionist, aware that her smile was brighter than usual.

He nodded in reply, used to this sickly greeting; she did this to everybody and everybody had begun to grow bored.

From the corner of his eye, he noticed the blonde woman still had her eyes on his form as he walked towards the lift. While she was cute, and fairly intelligent, he was sad to say that they were  _not_ going to work.

As long as Jungkook still had the voices in his head, he still hadn't met _the_ one. 

Glancing down at his watch, he noticed he was 15 minutes late. He grinned at the fact he wouldn't get sanctioned for this; they knew that Monday was one of his many triggers.

For the first time since earning the placement, Jungkook was able to ride to his floor alone. He hummed along quietly to the soft music that was being pumped through the lift's ancient speakers, not knowing the words but remembering the tune from his childhood.

Well, the part that wasn't traumatic.

He counted the time it took to reach the 12th floor, taking note that it took 6 seconds longer than it did last time he rode it as he left through the opening metal doors. 

The glass floor made his footsteps echo as he strode to his destination, taking advantage of the fact he wasn't having to deal with huge crowds of people. Crowds gave him anxiety and he had the habit of holding his breath until he was no longer being pushed around.

"Jungkook-ssi," a voice called from behind the boy, belonging to a grumpy, middle-aged man in a suit. 

Jungkook turned around slowly, noticing that he had been caught. The voice belonged to his boss's boss's boss, or the 'supreme overlord' that the staff had nick-named him.

He controlled everything that happened, having access to every document, file and piece of code uploaded onto the server. He had the power to remove any staff he wished, and was responsible for half of the wage cuts in the past year.

He also knew Jungkook's father.

"Sir," he bowed, a tight smile on his face as he resisted the urge to turn into stone, "Can I help you with anything?"

The 'supreme overlord' sighed, shaking his head in disapproval, "I want to know why you are only just arriving. Do you call this an etiquette time to arrive?"

Tempted to reply rudely, he decided against it and apologised profusely. As much as he hated the man, he knew that he spoke to his father on a regular basis. And his father was already disappointed with him. 

"I'll let you off this time," he sighed, glaring at the boy, "But next time I see you late, you're gone and I will let your father know exactly why he shouldn't have let you come here."

Silently nodding, Jungkook whispered his thanks and ran in the direction of his office without delay.

As much as he hated Lee Jiwoo, that man was at the top of the list.

He entered the office silently, trying his best not to draw attention to himself. Thankfully, only a few heads looked in his direction, the majority looking back at their work immediately after.

Drawing almost no attention to himself, he grinned at the sight of his desk.

Slinking back in his chair as soon as his ass made contact with the leather, he let out a genuine smile of relief.

But that was a smile that would soon be stolen away in a matter of hours.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was very stressful to write, so I hope you guys enjoy :)
> 
> I love you all <3

She wanted him to know just how much she hated her.

Despite his regular outbursts, she was still struggling to come to terms with the the fact she was attacked by this supposedly innocent-looking man. Every time she walked past a window or a mirror, she couldn't help but stare at her reflection; the cut grew from the top of her eyebrow, all the way down her face until her jaw. While her long, black hair could easily cover it from sight, she decided against it; she wanted to showcase how much the boy was a threat to every single person working in the building.

Throughout the morning she found herself unable to do her work to the best of her ability; her eyes remained trained on the purple-haired boy agaist her will, finding herself analysing his every movement.

Jungkook had noticed her staring, but chose to ignore it. He knew that unless he wanted to start an argument with the witch, he should let her gawk at him until she becomes tired.

The job was fairly simple; receiving hundreds of emails a day from their superiors, relaying to other members of staff and organising the information they contained into files on their server. It was not the job that Jungkook had wanted when he moved to Seoul, but it paid for his shitty apartment and his junk food addictions.

The people sat around the boy would often talk about him in hushed whispers, knowing that he could hear every word and that he took great offence. While at first he had told himself that it was because they were jealous, he quickly discovered the error in his judgement. That they weren't jealous, but instead branding him as the office freak that nobody likes.

It was common knowledge in the office that he hadn't found his soulmate; despite his skills at hiding the number that had been tattooed onto his neck at birth, his symptoms still gave it away. Once a person reaches the age of 18, if they haven't found their soulmate, their mental health slowly degrades over time until they find them. That's how the government got the majority of its income; providing ineffective drugs for every mental illness in existence and charging hundreds of thousands of Won for a small amount.

But if it eased the pain of being alone, why wouldn't people buy it?

Jungkook was slowly beginning to believe that his tattoo didn't have a match; he had searched far and wide, even looked online, to try and find his soulmate. But every time there was no response.

"Jungkook-ssi?"

Jungkook was abruptly pulled out of thoughts in a matter of seconds, feeling his throat run dry when he saw his supervisor looming above him with dark, endless eyes that were fixated upon his face.

"Can I help you,  _sir_?" 

Kim Namseok was a stern man with a tendency to pick on anybody younger than him. As he was a man in his late 50's, this pretty much meant everybody who wasn't in a high position. He was hated by everybody, but he hated them too.

This man was a prime example of who Jungkook could become like if he didn't find his soulmate; a grumpy, old man with Alzheimer's that had nothing much to live for other than looking after his cats.

"Why aren't you doing your work?" he inquired, his voice monotonous and laced with boredom, "If you don't work, you don't get paid. It's simple as that!"

Rolling his eyes, the boy shrugged awkwardly, "I was just trying to think of ways to avoid turning into a copy of you when I grow up. Y'know, the usual."

He let out a dry laugh, amused by the boy's sarcasm; while he wasn't the best with young people, this boy was his favourite by a stretch.

"Get back to work or you'll get into more trouble than you already are, you lil' shit,"

Purple hair fell to the side as he nodded, aware that this man was giving him a chance. 

He went back to his desktop and began to open the e-mails he had received, most of them giving him instructions and a list of people he needed to send files to. It was an easy process; make a folder for each member of staff and fill the folder with files that they needed to be sent. Then e-mail it to the people and wait for more e-mails.

No wonder everybody hated working for the company.

 

~~~

 

The boy was now waiting in the elevator, rather taken aback from receiving an email from the CAO of ST Logistics. The man who held the position rarely spoke to insignificant members of staff in his company, leaving his underlings to take care of any and all problems.

The worst thing about the random meeting was that the man was close to Jungkook's family, having attended his parents' wedding 25 years ago and also sharing a dorm with his father when they were in college. He was the reason why Jungkook got the job, despite him having almost none of the required qualifications or experience in the workplace

And now they were going to meet.

Butterflies felt ready to erupt from his stomach, aware that his behaviour hadn't been the best lately; but other than permanently deforming his colleague's face, his actions had been pretty ordinary, for him, and overlooked. While he was usually fairly optimistic, he had a sinking feeling that he couldn't seem to lift.

The elevator was too slow.

He hated the way gears churned as they rubbed against each other and he hated the way the awful music seemed to get louder as he spent more time in there. He hated the way the security camera made him feel like he was constantly being watched and he hated how the mirrors looked as if they had never been cleaned.

He was beginning to realise that he hated every single thing about the hellhole he called work.

The bored expression that was tattooed onto his face seemed to not even shift when someone else joined him half-way; he didn't even bow, as he was just stuck in his head.

As more people joined him in the elevator, he found his breathing becoming harsher. Claustrophobia was something he had grown up with, but now that he was also suffering from anxiety the effects on him were much worse. 

Vision blurry, harsh breathing and trembling body; these actions attracted confused looks from his companions, who stared at him for several seconds before going back to ignoring him. They did not help him; they knew exactly who he was and why he was on the way to meet the boss.

But they knew better than to tell him.

When the doors opened on his floor, the 28th floor, his pulse seemed to rapidly increase and his heart felt ready to burst out of his chest. Avoiding the eyes of the others, he left through the menacing metal doors affixed to the box and began to walk down the long corridor.

His breath sounded louder than anything else in this moment.

There was nobody else within a close proximity to him and this really drove in the idea that this was where some of the most important business decisions were made. Silence was a common theme as he found himself following signs to his destination.

Whenever he landed slightly too heavy on one of his feet whilst walking, he found himself wincing. He was fully aware that he was being watched from the other side of the tinted windows by the office workers, but he didn't care.

He knew it was almost time for him to leave this hellhole.

Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime of navigating, he found himself stood outside of a pair of heavy, shiny, black, metal doors. On the door to his right, a plaque reading 'Mr Lee' stood out in a huge, bold font.

Hesitantly, Jungkook lifted his arm slowly and knocked quietly on the door. He let out a shaky breath as he heard movement from behind the door, and almost fell over when he heard a booming voice echo from inside.

"Come in, whomever you are! I've not got all day!"

Gulping and neatening his purple bangs, he entered quietly. Whilst he struggled a little with the door, he was pleasantly surprised to see that the dreaded Mr Lee was actually a tiny, older man.

They read each other in silence, both of them unable to take their eyes off of the other.

Jungkook took in the man's short height, light weight and white, balding hairstyle. He noticed he was wearing a very fancy shit and a tie he had once seen online for 7,000,000 Won. While the man had quite kind eyes, his voice contrasted every one of his features.

Mr Lee took in the young man's tall height, muscular structure and his dyed hair with distaste. He noticed that he still had his number tattooed onto his neck, and sighed inwardly in pity. Whilst the boy looked very capable of being able to look after himself, his eyes screamed vulnerability.

"You must be Jungkook, the son of my best friend," he greeted in a tired expression, wishing he could wear a smile. But he had nothing to be happy about.

"Yeah, and you must be Lee Byungchan-ssi," Jungkook replied, bowing low before giving a tight smile of goodwill, "It's great to meet you, sir,"

Raising his eyebrows at the boy's personality, he gestured to a seat and watched as he took it. He followed his own instructions, sitting in the one across from Jungkook and grabbing the documents he had just been printing off.

Sighing, he handed them to Jungkook wordlessly. After the reports he had received, he watched his reaction nervously.

Jungkook was beginning to see red; the fact that the company had stooped  _that_ low made him feel physically sick. His left hand balled up into a fist at his side, trying his best not to hit the CAO in the face.

"I'm sorry, Jungkook-ah. If I didn't have to, I wouldn't have. But we've had so many complaints from your coll-"

"Colleagues," he interrupted, taking deep breaths, "More like my tormentors. They are the reason why I act out and have so many issues at work. And I know that a lot of them only filed complaints in an attempt to get me fired! Isn't there anything you can do?"

Lee Byungchan shook his head sympathetically, "I'm sorry, but these are direct orders. It's either this or you get locked up for assaulting Lee Jiwoo. And I'm sure me and and you both know what the reasonable choice is, don't you?"

Nodding, Jungkook wiped the tears that were beginning to form at his tear ducts. While he never wanted this job in the first place, he couldn't afford to lose it. Not when he was struggling with mental health issues.

"Just sign these papers so that we can give you some money to support you for a few weeks, then we're done. I'm sorry that we had to do this, considering your issues, but we really didn't have a choice. Don't worry kiddo, I'll tell your dad that you quit. I'm sure you don't want him knowing about the whole dilemma, huh?"

Rolling his eyes, he complied with his wishes. Teary-eyed, he used a pen to sign the bottom of the contract. This was probably the only time he had left a job because he had no choice.

"There you go," Jungkook said bitterly, passing the pen and contract to his ex-boss and sighing, "Now don't mind me, I have a job to look for."

Lee Byungchan watched as the boy left the office, his eyes trained on how the boy walked. The depression slouch was obvious and he now felt guilty.

But he just repeated one phrase in his mind: "You had no fucking choice!"


	3. Chapter 3

The boy didn't take well to the termination of his contract. He no emotions other than anger, and now he didn't hesitate to find an outlet.

Jungkook found himself wearing a huge grin as he admired his handiwork, analysing the position of each and every cracked egg that had hit a car. Whilst he knew he could be fined or even prosecuted for his actions, he knew that those cunts he called his colleagues deserved it.

He wanted to take photos so he could keep a record of this fine moment, but he knew that it could bring more bad than good; instead he walked out of the parking lot with a wide smile on his face, causing anybody who saw him to wear strange expressions.

The fact that he needed to apply for a new job completely slipped his mind; he was too busy having too much fun by making fun of people in his mind.

Lee Jiwoo's car had had several eggs thrown at it, making it appear to be painted in dozens of egg yolks. The white BMW that she had always bragged about was now a sickly shade of yellow, and now reminded everybody who laid their eyes upon it of vomit.

In comparison to his journey to the office, Jungkook's journey to his scrubby home was now silent and lonely. He had grown accustomed to the thousands of people he passed on their daily commutes, knowing that each and every one of them were plagued by negative emotions towards life. He would miss seeing their grumpy faces as they beeped their horns at each other, feeling as though this situations would progressively worsen if they didn't witness his cheerful grins.

It was beginning to sink in as his already slow pace become tortuously slower, and the soles of his sneakers began to drag against the rough, chewing gum-covered concrete. He was fucked up in the head and he had been forced out the job his father had organised for him after lashing out at somebody he hated.

"Do I have the mental age and capabilities of a six-year-old?"

He often asked himself this whenever he had done something bad. Some would recognise that it was his coping mechanism, whereas others would just label him as insane and unstable. Either way, he didn't care.

He no longer wore the smile that he had worn whilst egging cars; his mouth was set in a straight line and he wore regret like he had been born with it.

It was all because of this soulmate shit.

Why couldn't he be like everybody else? Why couldn't he have found his soulmate during his childhood? Why couldn't he be happy? Why couldn't he live happily without love? Why couldn't he be set free from the mental illness that had been activated in his brain as soon as he became a legal adult?

All these questions, and only one answer that he could possibly conjure: his soulmate didn't exist and he was doomed to succumb to mental illness and die at his own hands.

Or so he had theorised.

A dozen or so people were stood outside of the apartment block that he lived in, each of them clutching a beer and smoking cigarettes or vaping. While he recognised one or two faces, the rest were foreign to him. He received a series of strange looks from them, but chose to ignore them. They were the scum of society, and the group he would probably be part of if he never found his government-assigned lover.

"Where do you think you're going, kid?"

Jungkook was stopped from entering the complex by an outstretched arm, belonging to one of the thugs that had congregated in front of the entrance.

"I'm going into my home," he replied politely, biting his bottom lip in an attempt to contain his frustration, "So can you please moved out of my way?"

His words were met with laughter.

"No way is a kid like you living in this place," he mocked, sneering at the purple-haired boy and looking in the direction of his friends for approval, "At least not once we're done with you."

Rolling his eyes, Jungkook realised that he was going to have to deal with him the hard way.

"Get out of my fucking my way, you scumbag. I don't want to have to hurt you."

The group laughed, and before he could register what was amusing them he received a punch in the face.

He clutched the place where the fist had made contact, wincing at the sudden pain that erupted from the pressure. He was being laughed at, and his face was turning bright red.

Without warning he was rapidly knocked to the ground by somebody's foot, and he let out a painful grunt as his face made contact with the gravel. It was another person who had provided this second attack and this made him aware that it was no longer 1 vs 1.

No matter what he tried, every time he attempted to get off the floor he was kicked down again. A boot made contact with his head, pressing his handsome face into the sharp stones that were hidden amongst the gravel. He could feel his skin being penetrated by these stones slowly, in shock after feeling the blood beginning to leak from his face.

"You like the taste of that, huh?"

It was a girl's voice and Jungkook looked up to see a women with a sunken face glaring down at him. She had large circles under her eyes and bloodshot eyes. There was only one explanation for her appearance; drug abuse, and the heavy shit too.

They both made eye contact, and she met his curious stare with an even more menacing glare. Jungkook was slightly scared of her, knowing that she probably knew how to fight.

"Why don't you guys just go back to what you were doing?" he pleaded, feeling the cold beginning to pass through the thick material of his clothes, "I promise not to bother you!"

Instead of getting a reply, he was plucked from the ground via somebody grabbing his T-shit effortlessly. Stumbling to his feet, he drew his hands into fists and began to square up to those around him.

Despite fact that his body seemed to consist of muscle and muscle only, he wasn't the strongest when it came to hand-to-hand combat; he punched like a twelve-year-old girl who was drunk.

"Awe, how cute!"

The guy who had picked him up cooed at him, taking the piss out of his nerves. While Jungkook could understand why he was reacting that way, he still got annoyed.

Lunging forward quickly, he aimed a fist in the direction of his face. Instead of making contact with the plump flesh of of his face, his fist got captured in his palm. Jungkook felt his arm being twisted harshly and he cried out in pain.

The girl kicked him in the crotch as he was restrained, letting out an ugly bout of horrendous giggles. She had evil written all over her greasy face.

"Oi," a voice shouted, and Jungkook strained his neck to try and get a glimpse of them, "Get off of him!"

The roaring of motorcycles startled everybody, and Jungkook was dropped to the ground suddenly as his holder retreated to his friends.

Several men on motorcycles stopped in front of the group, all of them wearing helmets or masks to hide their faces. It was impossible to tell which one had yelled, as the seemed to move at the speed of light.

"What the fuck!?"

Jungkook's attackers began to yell out curses as they retreated down the road, being followed by all but two of the bikers. They were all terrified at being caught, unable to know what would happen to them if they were captured.

The two remaining men stopped their bikes in front of the cowering boy, only several inches from where his legs lay. He felt their eyes on him as they analysed everything about him. Feeling uneasy, he avoided looking towards them.

"You okay there, kid?" the boy who had yelled earlier asked, taking off his helmet to reveal a mop of brown hair. He pushed it back to reveal his handsome face, smirking at the boy who was looking up at him in admiration.

"Y-yeah," Jungkook stuttered, blushing from seeing such an attractive human being, "Thanks for helping me out with those assholes."

The other biker took off his helmet, following the actions of his friend. He too was handsome, and had black bangs. Both boys had a variety of piercings, and sported leather jackets with the initials 'BB' engraved onto the back.

Jungkook gulped; they were members of the Bangtan Brotherhood, a gang that was terrorising all of Seoul on a daily basis. Not only were they rebellious, they were also extremely dangerous to be around when you were alone.

"Don't worry about it," the brunette added, nodding towards his friend, "Just worry about this, kiddo,"

Jungkook's face lit up with alarm as the black-haired boy picked up a baseball bat from the floor near the entrance to the apartment and waled towards him. With no warning, he swung it hard and hit Jungkook in the head.

Seeing that the boy was knocked out, the two boys lifted up the boy's unconscious body onto one bike and rode off, knowing that their boss would be very pleased with their work.

After all, if the boy needed a change in lifestyle why not encourage him to join a bloodthirsty gang with a passion for murder and controversy?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it has been a while since I updated, but I had a severe case of writer's block after a week of exams. And when I finally did write something, I unintentionally deleted several chapters I had written.
> 
> So this is the new chapter, one that took me the best part of a week to write. It isn't the best, but it leads into the main story (which I have been very excited to write :))

Jungkook scowled at the man who was perched opposite him, who reciprocated the favour with a mean smirk. His mane was scarlet and resembled a flame as it was gelled to the side. He wore a large, leather jacket that didn't quite fit his frame and ripped, black skinny jeans. His orbs were a perfect shade of hazel, seeming to pierce through the purple-haired boy's skin as he sat bound to a wooden stool by his hands and feet.

There was a great deal of tension between the two; both of them had been entranced in a staring competition for the last minute and a half since Jungkook had finally awakened from his long-drawn slumber.

No concept of how long he had been unconscious, his abdomen ached from starvation. The last thing the kid had remembered, was being hit in the head by a guy in a biker jacket.

"Why am I here?"

The sound that left his sarcophagus was foreign to him, no more than a weakened whisper. It was as if his larynx was crying out for help, desperate for moisture.

Blushing wordlessly, he slouched in his seat, overwhelmed with embarrassment. Despite his instantaneous dislike towards the man, he still found him extremely attractive. The voices in his head were mocking him, daring him to make a fool out of himself in front of this guy.

"You're here because I'm a friend of a friend," he replied, his voice deeper than people usually expected; his face was squishy and he sported deep dimples on his face, "And I offered to take you in after being told that you were fired from your job."

It didn't make sense: why knock him out with a baseball bat if he wanted to help him. Battling the urge to fight against the ropes in protest, he stayed silent- he didn't want to question this, clearly, remarkably influential man.

"A shy one huh?" he grinned, gesturing to somebody that was stood behind Jungkook, "Cut him loose and see if this will help our guest feel more comfortable to talk to his new boss."

His heart threatening to escape his chest, he thrashed against the splintering ropes in fear; he had no idea who the man behind him was, but judging from his last encounter with the guys "friends" he wasn't probably the nicest person in the world. The ropes burned his skin as he pulled harshly, causing him to cry out.

The man stood behind him grabbed onto his wrists, holding him still whilst he sawed at the thick ropes with a small pocket knife. The moment his circulation returned to his hands, he let out a pleasurable gasp as he could finally feel his fingers again. Cracking every joint in his phalanges, he almost forgot about having been kidnapped.

"Ready to communicate, kid?"

"Y-yeah," he stuttered, rubbing his wrists awkwardly as he addressed his thoughts, "Who are you?"

Shaking his head with a humourless laugh, he pondered how the kid could have no idea who he was; it was pretty obvious by the that him and all of his friends dressed.

"Kim Namjoon," he replied dryly, not wanting to waste any time, "Y'know, leader of the Bangtan Brotherhood? We're kinda famous here."

"Never heard of you guys," the younger boy admitted, feeling Namjoon's eyes begin to cook him alive, "'Cause I've got bigger problems to worry about than gangs. In case you guys didn't notice, I still have a tattoo on my neck and a pocket full of medication. My head is fucked and is probably gonna be like this until I end up killing myself because of the voices."

"Damn,"

Namjoon sent Jungkook a sympathetic look, a pleasant replacement for his signature glare.

"I'm sorry, man. That must be tough..."

"No shit," the kid replied with a sigh, "But it is what it is. So can somebody cut my ankles loose?"

The same guy from before followed his request, flashing him a sympathetic smile as he ripped apart the second rope. Crying out in relief, Jungkook stretched his ankles. He finally felt free.

Now that he was actually able to look around, he observed that he was locked in a gloomy, dusty office with barely enough light to illuminate the room. There were three other men in the room with him and Namjoon, all of them wearing leather jackets, masks and brightly coloured hair. All but one of them were on their mobile phones, looking very bored as they leaned against the wall next to the exit.

The windows were blocked by thick, black curtains that cascaded all over the floor, mixing with the slate-grey, tiled flooring. There was minimal furniture in the room; only a desk, several chairs, a bookcase and a dozen filling cabinets that threatened to overflow. The door was barely hanging onto its hinges, appearing primed to collapse if somebody attempted to force it open too harshly.

"Anyway," Namjoon interrupted, aware that the kid had been lost in his own world, "Let's get down to business!"

Jungkook turned his attention to the leader, raising an eyebrow as he waited for him to speak.

"I just want to know if you want to joing the brotherhood? We will give you a roof over your head, three square meals a day, an almost unlimited amount of funds and help you accomplish anything you could ever want; all we ask for in return is that you help us with any crimes and that you support the gang."

Biting his lip, Jungkook still couldn't believe what he had gotten himself into, "I'm not sure how I feel about this. I mean, I have a home and I have a pretty okay life consid-"

"You have a shitty apartment, a shitty life and an even shittier mental state. We found you lying on the floor after being beaten up outside of your apartment block. You were fired after attacking your co-worker: you need us more than we need you."

Rolling his eyes, the youngest slunk back in his seat. While the man was speaking the truth, he felt vulnerable being in this situation; being seen as weak was one of his greatest fear, considering how hard he had worked to hide his suffering for almost half a year.

But for the first time ever, the voices actually whispered for him to do something that could actually be a good thing.

"Fine, I'll join your 'brotherhood' if it stops you trying to act as if you know everything about me."

A toothy grin stretched across the redhead's face, eyes growing small. As if a completely different person from several minutes ago, he bounced up from his chair and pulled the younger guy into a quick hug.

"Take him up to his room," he commanded the other men, a pleasant smile pained from cheek to cheek, "and make sure he has everything he could possibly need. Make sure he has his medication with his luggage and get Jin-hyung to bring him some food."

"Yes sir," the boys chorused, getting up from their lazy positions and gesturing for the boy to follow.

He did, both nervous and excited to start a new lifestyle and finally have a chance to start his adulthood over.

But nervous because he still had no idea what he had just gotten himself into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this chapter; if you enjoyed, I would love it if you left kudos and a comment to motivate me :)
> 
> Love you guys, hope you have a great day! <3


	5. Chapter 5

"Hello?"

Jungkook felt himself growing claustrophobic in the corridor, eagerly waiting for the person he would be roommates with for the unforeseeable future to let him inside.

The voices had come back and while he wasn't too bothered by it, he was aware that he had no idea where his medication was. Sweat was forming on his brow, and he couldn't help but let his eyes flood with tears. He hated meeting new people.

"One second!"

The voice that came from the other side of the wooden door was bright, cheery and seemed to belong to a child. Whilst it was quite charming at first, he could imagine himself becoming irritated by the voice after a few hours.

The door squeaked open, revealing the owner of the voice; a short, muscular boy who had dyed his hair pink, very different to what the boy had expected.

"Hi!" he grinned, eyes growing small, "I'm Park JImin and I'm going to be your roommate!"

"Umm, I'm Jeon Jungkook," he replied, slightly intimidated by Jimin's cuteness.

Opening the door further to let the purple-haired male inside, Jimin made sure to retain the smile on his face; he was aware of how nervous the kid was. He had been told by his boyfriend that Jungkook hadn't found his soulmate and was determined to help him out, even if it was only by putting a smile on his face.

"Excuse the mess," he said, picking up some of his things that had been left on the floor, "Had a movie night last night with my boyfriend and he is incapable of tidying up after himself. Don't worry, he's too busy these days to come round too often."

The room was small, simple and had a decent view of the city skyline; this helped him realise that he had been taken quite far away from his home, and eased some of his nerves.

The main thing that had been worrying him since his arrival was not knowing where he was. Ever since being a child, he had been scared of new places and this was no exception.

His things had been brought from his apartment and placed by his bed, which was small and pushed into the corner to make more space. There was a connecting bathroom and it seemed pretty clean; it appeared that Jimin knew how to tidy up after himself.

"How long have you been a member of the gang?"

This question didn't shock the boy; he had been asked it hundreds of times by new members.

"10 years," he sighed, "When my parents died in a fire, the old leader took me in and trained me. Took me and six other boys from the orphanage he ran and started the brotherhood."

"Shit, I'm so sorry!" Jungkook apologized, bowing twice awkwardly.

"Don't worry about Jungkookie! I really don't mind talking about it; it helps us become closer and understand each other."

The boy rolled his eyes at the nickname, but couldn't hold back the grin on his face; Jimin was too cute for him to resist. Nodding sympathetically, the kid sat on his bed and rubbed his temples. His head was beginning to spin and the voices were telling him all sorts of nasty things; they wanted him to deny this new opportunity and go back to living in squalor.

But he was stronger than to listen to them again, not after last time.

"So I'm guessing you haven't met your soulmate yet?"

Releasing a dry laugh in response, he casually moved the fabric of his t-shirt to reveal the number tattooed on his neck. His head was really beginning to ache, and he lunged for a suitcase full of his stuff in order to try to find his medication.

Luckily the boxes of pills were in a plastic bag at the top.

Dispensing four pills from three different bottles, he swallowed them dry and instantly his symptoms faded. Wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead, the voices turned into nothing more than a faint whisper.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," Jungkook replied, "Just my symptoms. I'm guessing you probably have no idea about how bad they huh."

"Actually I do," he smiled, rubbing the back of his neck nervously, "My best friend hasn't met his soulmate yet and he suffers really bad. Whenever we go out on a job together we all have to carry spare medication for him just in case anything happens and we have to keep him on track. Hopefully, you'll both meet and share your experiences soon."

"Yeah, hopefully."

A yawn came out of the boy's mouth; it had been a severely long day for him and he was struggling to keep his eyes open. So many things had happened today and the stress from it was too much for him to handle.

Jimin sighed before picking up his mobile and dialling his boyfriend's number, watching his roommate fall into a deep sleep.

"Jimin?"

"Hey Yoongi," he sighed into the device, stepping outside into the corridor so he wouldn't be overheard, "I have a new roommate, and he doesn't have a soulmate."

"What about it? Want me to help him with his symptoms or something? You should know that I don't help people that I'm probably gonna get close to."

"No, not that. To be honest he doesn't seem the type to want help with that anyway."

"Then what's up, babe? I'm really busy right now, so hurry up." There was an urgency in his tone, so Jimin kept it short and sweet.

"I want you to tell Taehyung that we might have found his soulmate."


	6. Chapter 6

Kim Taehyung was a simplistic man with simple values and stupid aspirations. He spent his days assisting strangers and his nights supporting the gang in carrying out their destructive schemes.

An orphan from a tender age, he had trained himself not to become too attached to anybody; years of jumping from home to home, he had never actually felt cherished by anyone other than his loyal friend Jimin.

Park Jimin.

The man who had persuaded him to put down the gun.

The man who had convinced him not to take his life at the age of 16 and urged him to join the gang.

The man who was always there for him when his condition worsened and vowed to find him his soulmate.

It had been six years since that commitment had been made and still no results. The voices in his head weren't too bad most days, but it was the physical implements that affected him the worse.

Many times, in the midst of his responsibilities, he had lost the feeling in the entirety of his body and fallen off of his motorcycle. This previously resulted in him snapping his arms and legs, and having to have surgery to fix a brain bleed. Following this injury, he was bedbound for numerous months, making him feel useless.

And this wasn't a healthy feeling for someone with a critical mental illness.

Even now he still cut himself; dozens of scars coated his limbs, which he frequently attempted to cover by wearing long-sleeve shirts and bandages.

Many people didn't understand why he hated himself so much; he was the complete package. With the appearance of an angel and the figure of a God, his compassion towards others seemed to just be the cherry on the top.

But as long as he had no soulmate and was on hundreds of prescriptions, there was no possibility for him to be satisfied with his life.

The only thing he could do to ease his seemingly never-ending pain was to take a ride on his motorbike and go to the forests that sat on the outskirts of Seoul.

And that's where he was now.

Kim Taehyung sat in a beautiful silence, only broken by the chirping of songbirds in the distance and the scampering of the tiny creatures living in the bushes. A cigarette in one hand and a can of Strongbow in the other, he felt as if he was confined in his own little bubble as he observed the gorgeous sunrise.

Leaning against a huge boulder at the summit of the tree-covered hill, he had the perfect view of the city skyline. Peeking over the skyscrapers, the sun appeared shy and dainty despite being a massive ball of fire in the sky.

"This is too fucking beautiful," Taehyung spoke to nobody in particular, "And they wonder why this is my favourite place."

The kid was well known to rarely spend the entire night in the lodgings provided for him by the Brotherhood; while he loved to sleep, he also loved to make the most of what the world had to give.

Putting out the cigarette and tossing it into the scanty, black bin that had been erected next to a dilapidated, wooden bench. Mounting his bike and kicking it into life, he carefully placed his helmet to conceal his beautiful face. Unlike the other members of the Brotherhood, he was a lot more subtle in public; he made sure to make it less explicit that he was a fragment of the gang, wearing his leather jacket only when he absolutely had to.

The best part about staying out all night for him was the journey home; the wind in his hair, the sun warming his body and the music produced by the animals he passed. Although he doubted they missed him, he loved nothing more than seeing their relieved expressions when he arrived back to the base.

The dirt track he had been riding on through the woods was slowly becoming smoother and smoother, becoming less dirty and appearing to be safer as he grew closer and closer to the city. He could taste the pollution on his tongue, feeling like he was choking on the fumes that were being breathed out by the automobiles that raced through the city every day.

The roads grew busier and busier, more traffic surrounding him as he revved the engine of his most prized possession. Realising he would now have to drive sensibly, he visibly grew agitated; he longed for freedom, and this was the exact opposite of what how he wanted to get back home.

He lived for adrenaline and adrenaline lived for him; without the adrenaline, he might as well have been an empty shell, a lump of meat without a purpose.

Finally making his way into the main part of the city, he slowed down his speed and carefully weaved in and out of the cars and lorries spread across the long, winding road that reminded him of the time he nearly died.

The hospital was often in his nightmares; ever since his accident that left him paralysed from the waist down for months, he had had a phobia of doctors and hospitals.

Even the smell of antibacterial gel made him nauseous.

"Taehyung-ssi!"

When Taehyung finally arrived back to headquarters, he was instantly confronted by Yoongi, Jimin's boyfriend and soulmate. While he made his best friend happy, they never really seemed to get along as neither of them had anything in common other than Jimin and the fact they were both orphans.

"Yoongi-hyung!" he replied, mocking the elder's tone sarcastically in order to get his daily digs in, "What's up hyung? Normally you're too busy banging my best friend to talk to me, so what is so important that you had to reject the offer for him to suck your dick?"

"First of all," the blonde replied with a cough, taken aback by his dongsaeng's rudeness, "I'm not always banging him, he is the one banging me."

Both boys let out a wry laugh at this; as much as they didn't get along, they had a similar crude sense of humour.

"And second?"

"And second," he paused to clear his throat awkwardly, "Jimin and I have a feeling that we might have found your soulmate!"

Jaw dropping to the floor, Taehyung let out a long cry of shock before feeling himself grow light-headed.

"Oh my fucking god!"


	7. Chapter 7

Jimin sighed softly while he watched his new roommate stir in his sleep, muttering quietly into his pillow. Seeming remarkably peaceful for once, the pink-haired guy was unable to wipe the grin off of his face as Jungkook started to rise from his slumber.

"Jungkookie!"

Hearing the sweet voice call his name, the sleeping angel forced his eyes to open and stared at the charming boy. While he wasn't normally a friendly person in the morning, this time it was different; Jimin was far too adorable to disregard and Jungkook felt inclined to make an adequate first impression on his new hyung.

"What's up Jimin-hyung? How long was I asleep for?"

"You slept for 16 hours," Jimin replied with a nervous giggle, "But I'm not surprised, considering what you've been through these past few days."

"Bloody hell," the kid muttered, rubbing his eyes violently in an attempt to wake himself up. Glancing at the digital clock that stood on the bedside table, he noticed that it was already 10 am.

Following his every move, the older of the two held his breath as the kid forced himself to stand up; adverting his eyes when the blanket fell off of his body, he remembered how he had observed in terror when Jungkook had removed every article of clothing on his body at 2 in the morning.

"Here's your leather jacket," he smiled politely, dodging his dongsaeng's eyes and tossing him the jacket that had been delivered to the room several hours ago, "Was made for you while you were sleeping. If you don't like the design, you can request a new one and wait a few days for it to be made."

Nodding in silence, the kid was already mesmerised; in love with the mere concept of possessing his individual jacket, now that it was right in front of him it felt like a fantasy had become real.

On the back, the boy's initials had been printed in large, black-and-white letters in an old-english font. A lime-green snake was wrapped around a bloody blade. A red apple, a handgun and the initials B.B. were written small at the bottom of the hem.

"I fucking love this so much!"

A pleasant smile grew on Jimin's face; for some reason, he felt like a proud father who had just watched his eldest son receive his driving licence, only this was a licence to be surrounded by danger for the rest of his existence.

"Well if you love it that much, you'll put on some clothes so we can go downstairs and introduce you to some of my closest friends."

Blushing quickly, Jungkook looked down awkwardly at his naked body, covering up his genitals with his hands until Jimin left him to get dressed.

Slipping on a par of black skinny jeans, a Slipknot t-shirt and a pair of red converse high tops. The finishing touch was slipping the heavy jacket over his shoulders and observing himself in the mirror; for the first time in forever, he felt handsome and powerful enough to conquer the world.

Before he attempted leaving the room and making his way downstairs, he swallowed his medication dry with a mischevious grin; he finally seemed alive. Fixing his hair one final time, he left the room with a contagious smile and joined his hyung in waiting for the ancient lift.

"Looking good, Kookie," he smiled sweetly at the boy, orbs full of love for his new friend, "You'll feel right at home in no time."

Nodding awkwardly, the kid played with his fingers; he counted the individual seconds it took for the doors to open, and then proceeded to count the seconds it took for the lift to descend to the bottom floor.

There was a weird feeling in his chest; it was probably his social anxiety coming out to play. He hated nothing more than meeting new people, scared that they would judge him for having no soulmate.

Pulled out of his own negative thoughts by the warmth of his hyung's hand clasping his own, he visibly relaxed and locked fingers with the other. Their hands were opposites; Jungkook's were thick, veiny and long whilst Jimin's were tiny, chubby and soft. Letting a chuckle escape from his lips, this amused the younger kid greatly.

The metal doors opened, revealing a long-drawn, dimly lit corridor.

They both took their hands back and walked briskly down the length of the passage, Jimin appearing confident in comparison to the younger boy; Jungkook had several beads of sweat running down his face as his nerves attempted to get the best of him. Hands balled into fists, he battled his nerves by taking deep breaths and staying focused on his hyung.

"Hey hyung!"

When Jimin opened the door that led into the dining room, the pair were instantly confronted by dozens of grinning faces that sat at various different tables.

The majority of the kids were looking at Jungkook; it was to be expected, considering that more than half of them had no idea who he was.

"Who's the new kid?"

"What's he doing here?"

"Is he okay? He looks very nervous?"

Not realising that their leader was stood behind them, Jungkook and Jimin jumped when they heard Namjoon's thundering voice erupt from the silence.

"He's our newest member, Jungkook," he called out, trying his best to end the outbursts of invasive questions, "It was short notice, so only a handful of people know about his arrival. Please treat him well until he gets settled."

The eyes that were once on the maknae were now directed elsewhere, and he visibly relaxed as he followed his roommate to their table.

The table was filled with four other boys, all wearing bright smiles. Namjoon sat next to one of the men from earlier that had been in charge of Jungkook's capture, and Jimin sat next to a blonde boy with a gummy smile.

The other two boys were talking to each other, one sporting red hair whilst the other had gorgeous, light-brown bangs. The red-head looked up at Jungkook and grinned, while the other looked up with a blank face.

One by one the boys introduced themselves; Jungkook was confused by the end, trying to memorise all of their names.

The one name that he would definitely remember belonged to the brunette: Kim Taehyung.

He seemed very shy, wore very tight clothing, had several piercings and was very carefree. Everybody seemed to pay him the most attention; he was very vulnerable and nervous and avoided making eye contact with the new guy.

"You okay?" he asked Taehyung, giving him a polite smile, "Don't worry, I don't bite!"

"Yeah," he replied shakily, shaking his head awkwardly, "Don't mind me, I'm just gonna have a cigarette outside."

"I'm coming too," Jimin intercepted, earning a concerned look from his partner, "I need some fresh air."

Awkwardly the two made their way to the nearest exit; the rest of the boys could only watch in confusion as they discussed possible reasons behind their suspicious behaviour.


	8. Chapter 8

Kim Taehyung's POV

Being in the arms of Jimin was strange; ordinarily, it was the other way around. It was considerably challenging, considering how he was slightly shorter than me. His arms scarcely made it the whole way round, his tiny hands only just touching.

It was perfect.

Hyung remembered exactly how to make everything better, many years of practice under his belt. We had grown up together and with him being only a few months older than me, he felt like my twin.

I remembered when Jimin first found his soulmate, how excited he was to tell me that it was the cute boy that had moved to our orphanage three days antecedent. I remembered observing the number branded into his skin gradually fade as they fell in love. I remembered how he urged me to keep my hopes up, saying that I would eventually find a soulmate of my own and how I wasn't going to die single.

Once upon a time, this would have helped me, but now it was impotent.

"I can't do this, hyung!" I wept, tears violently rolling down my cheeks in streams and staining them, "I just want to be left alone to die!"

"No," he pleaded, clutching my body tightly, "Not now. Not after everything we've done to support you through this! Not when we're so close to finding you happiness!"

Reflecting on his words, this did little to help my apprehensive thoughts.

"But what if it isn't him!"

Jimin liberated me from his clutches and gave me a cigarette from a box he had kept in his back pocket. This puzzled me; he had told us all that he had quit.

Taking it, I retrieved my lighter from my jacket pocket and lit it with shaky hands, taking a drag and breathing loudly. Jimin lit his own and dried away his tears with his thumb. Considering I had had no idea he was crying, I felt my heart plummet; I hated seeing him cry because of me.

"There's only one way to find out, Taehyungie," he revealed in a faltering, whisper-like voice, one hand on my shoulder as he peered into my eyes as if they were open doors, "And that's to get to know him!"

I nodded wordlessly, taking another drag and contemplating my prospects.

Firstly, I could tell Jungkook straight out that there was a chance that we were soulmates.

While this could be reasonably easy, there was a possibility that we weren't and I had no idea if he could manage being let down like that; there is nothing worse than false hope when it came to circumstances like these.

Secondly, I could get somebody to take a look at his neck and report back to me with the number branded on his neck.

This would both be impractical and awkward; Jungkook would know that something weird was going on if someone randomly decided to start staring at his neck every chance they got. And who would actually agree to do this for me?

Thirdly, I could befriend him and get him to fall in love with me.

This was slightly controversial and also quite awkward, but probably made the most sense. That way I could stage it and act as if it was all a coincidence that we were soulmates (if it was true). And then we would be a lot happier in our relationship.

By the time I had finished my cigarette, I had concluded what I was going to do.

"Hyung," I said quietly, waiting for him to finish, "I think I'm okay now."

He smiled, running a hand through his pink hair. Extinguishing his cigarette, he placed his things back into his pocket with a sigh.

"Good," he grinned, "It breaks my heart to see you upset."

"And since when did you start smoking again? Yoongi will murder you when he finds out!"

"I've been a little bit stressed," he laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck, "And there's nothing more calming than nicotine after a long day of hard work. A pack of twenty usually lasts me a week and I only smoke whenever Yoongi is away or I am. I know that I can trust you not to tell anybody. Right?"

"Sure," I laughed, rubbing the last few tears from my eyes with the back of my palm, "Just promise that in return you won't tell anybody about my plan to get Jungkook to fall in love with me."

"What!"

I spent the next ten minutes explaining my plan and the thought process behind it, and Jimin couldn't stop looking at me in shock.

"You are a freaking genius!"

I grinned at the sudden compliment and hugged Jimin suddenly, almost knocking him off of his feet. This wasn't anything new though; skinship had always been a key part of our relationship.

After we finally regained our composure, we entered the building again.

All eyes were on us as we went back to the cafeteria and joined the others. Jimin and I reassured them that we were just talking and that there was nothing to be worried about.

Yoongi didn't seem convinced.

"I'm sorry Jungkook," I began, facing my anxiety and speaking to the attractive male, "I was just stressed out earlier and I hadn't had a cigarette in a while. And I'm not too good when it comes to meeting new people!"

"Don't worry about it," he responded with the sweetest smile in existence, causing my heart to flutter at the sight, "Honestly I'm the same; I can't deal with people."

This boy was too sweet to be paired up with me.

I mentally slapped myself in the face; I needed to stop being so negative.

"So where did you grow up?" Namjoon interjected, looking away from his soulmate, Jin, for a second to address Jungkook.

"Busan," he replied simply, causing my eyebrows to lift in surprise. That was where Jimin-hyung was from. _No wonder they were both so attractive_.

"Same here," Jimin chimed in, "I guess that makes us the Busan Boys!"

I rolled my eyes at their chemistry; it was going to take me a while to be able to act like that around the boy.

**Author's Note:**

> I hoped you enjoyed reading this, and please leave lots of kudos and comments to motivate me to write more.
> 
> I go back to school tomorrow, but instead of sleeping I decided it would be fun to write this. Sorry if there are any mistakes; I have no motivation to proofread.
> 
> I love you guys <3


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